


Doctor Doctor

by A_Modern_Girl



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Drunk Decision Making, F/M, Morning After, Or Does It, What happens on Risa stays on Risa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Modern_Girl/pseuds/A_Modern_Girl
Summary: Sparks fly when Dr. Crusher and Dr. Bashir meet at a conference on Risa.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Beverly Crusher
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: Voyager Writing Game Prompts





	Doctor Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of the prompt: the rarest pair you can think of, and “hell no.” My sincere thanks to [Curator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/pseuds/Curator) for the beta - your insight and encouragement warmed my heart and made this story so much better.

Doctor Beverly Crusher prided herself on always knowing where she was — she had an innate sense of direction that almost never let her down. So when she woke up, there was no doubt in her mind that this was her hotel room on Risa where she was attending an immunology conference. What she did not know was the name of the gentleman in her bed. 

Slowly, she extricated herself from the tangled sheets. The only sound was the slow, even breathing of her mysterious companion. When she had successfully tiptoed to the bathroom, she turned to study him. He was young, although clearly older than Welsey, she assured herself. Thin, almost scrawny, but with some hint of athleticism. A cross-country runner, maybe. The man had a pronounced nose that was decidedly not her type, and as if in response, he rolled away from her.

Now, the only part of him she could see was his wild mop of hair. Hair she vividly remembered running her fingers through. She blushed as she remembered where his hands had been. Now if only she could remember his name… Her thoughts were interrupted when her guest muttered something in his sleep - cuckoo what? Beverly hastily closed the bathroom door. Maybe it was cowardly, but she didn’t want to be there when he woke up. Or at least, she wanted to gather her thoughts first.

Beverly reflected on the previous day as she stepped into the shower. She had presented her new Tarkelian flu vaccine that morning. Both her speech and the question and answer session that followed had gone beautifully, and so after suffering through dinner with the Vulcan delegation, she allowed herself a little treat. One drink at a bar on the beach, then straight back to her room to organize her notes and prepare for the next day’s sessions. Just a little bit of fun — her first priority was still the conference.

She found the perfect spot with a sunset view and ordered a margarita. If Deanna had been there, she would have never allowed her to order something so unexciting, but despite her mastery of medicinal drugs, herbs, and techniques, Beverly could never remember which cocktails were which. Besides, a margarita was perfectly appropriate for watching the waves lap against the perfectly white sand. When Deanna inevitably asked if she had done anything fun on her trip, this time she could honestly say she had.

The moment was interrupted by a young doctor she couldn’t quite place. Beverly summoned a kind, patient smile. Obviously, she had not chosen a bar far enough away from the conference facility. He gave her a silly little bow before saying, “Doctor Crusher, I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to ask you a bit more about your research.”

Beverly stifled a sigh. She remembered him now - he was the one who had asked about her vaccine and metabolic rates. It was an inconvenient question, although one she had prepared for. The backbone of her presentation had been the experiments she and her team had done on Krulana IV, where her vaccine had reduced person-to-person transmission by 96%. However, as the doctor pointed out, the residents of Krulana IV had a particularly slow metabolism — how long would the vaccine last in more active species?

It was a concern she shared, although she didn’t feel it made the vaccine unviable. Unfortunately, the _Enterprise_ had not been dispatched to help with Tarkelian flu outbreaks on any other worlds, so she had not been able to collect data affirming its efficacy. At the time, she had replied with a generic answer about needing more time to study the full effects, but that the vaccine’s early success could not be ignored. 

Apparently, what she had felt was a satisfactory answer wasn’t enough for the young buck in front of her. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the soft light of the sunset, but she didn’t feel the need to tell him off. Or maybe, sitting at a bar alone wasn’t that fun after all. Anyway, Beverly decided to humor him.

“What is it, Doctor…?”

“Bashir. I’ve been thinking about what you said - needing a new test population to verify the vaccine’s effectiveness. Have you considered accelerating the metabolic rate artificially?”

Of course she had. Beverly resisted rolling her eyes. “If you mean exposing the vaccine to higher temperatures—”

“Oh heavens no!” The look of shock and disgust on his aristocratic features was surprisingly adorable. “That would denature the vaccine. But perhaps introducing a glycogenic solution…”

Beverly waved to the chair beside her while she considered his approach. His solution probably wouldn’t work, but it did open new avenues to explore. When he motioned toward her empty glass, Beverly decided one more margarita couldn’t hurt.

They bantered back and forth, arguing the pros and cons of different approaches. He may have been a cocky young doctor, but Beverly had to admit he was a rather brilliant one. Not only was he well versed in the latest laboratory techniques, but he had invested serious thought into her problem. It was deeply flattering — even as he fought her on experimental methodology while their beverages rapidly disappeared.

Eventually, they reached some pinnacle in their drunken logic and celebrated with a round of tequila shots. By then the bar was almost empty. She couldn’t remember which happened first, her grip on his shoulder or his hand on her knee. But she did remember what happened next — she invited him back to her room. Once they arrived, the discussion of vaccine delivery systems gave way to less intellectual pursuits. Under the stream of the shower, Beverly ran her hands down her body, clutching and stroking where Bashir’s hands had been the night before.

For all his confidence, her lover was less experienced than she had thought. But what he lacked in knowledge he more than made up for in eagerness to please. Beverly smiled to herself and finished washing her hair. It was time to face the music, she reckoned, but at least now she remembered his name.

She opened the door to find Julian gazing up at her from the bed.

“Good morning,” he said brightly. Beverly couldn’t help but smile back.

“Care to continue our debate over breakfast?” he asked.

Beverly paused. Julian was cute, wildly intelligent, and kind, but she had enough fun for one conference. Besides, Doctor Selar was giving a talk on comparative neurology in half an hour that she had been looking forward to.

“Thank you,” she replied evenly, “but I’ll pass.”

Bashir nodded just a little too curtly to mask his disappointment, although it was a good effort. He sprang from the bed, got dressed, and was out the door with an “enjoy the rest of the conference, Beverly,” before she could even blink. Youth, Beverly mused, was one hell of a drug.

***

She had been back on the _Enterprise_ for several weeks when suddenly, in the middle of performing an operation, she remembered what her drunken breakthrough with Julian had been. As soon as the patient was stable, Beverly rushed to the lab to set up the experiment. Four days later, it was confirmed — the vaccine would work on all one hundred and fifty-three humanoid species known to contract Tarkelian flu.

As soon as she had the results tabulated, Beverly forwarded them to Deep Space Nine.

_What do you know, it worked! Thank you for your help and the good company — Dr. Crusher_

The reply was almost instantaneous.

_Congratulations! I knew you could do it. If you are ever on Deep Space Nine, we should celebrate. — Julian_

Beverly chuckled to herself. “Oh hell no,” she muttered under her breath. She sat for a moment before she replied.

_Definitely. — Beverly_

**Author's Note:**

> I felt that Dr. Crusher and Dr. Bashir would have intellectual and physical attraction, but not an emotional connection (at least not right away). What do you think? Thanks for reading!


End file.
